


What Do I Do Without You?

by Mildredo



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildredo/pseuds/Mildredo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6x01 reaction fic. Kurt wakes up the morning after breaking up with Blaine. Based on <a> Woke Up New </a> by The Mountain Goats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Do I Do Without You?

The morning starts like any other.

The loft is silent when Kurt wakes up, which is far more usual since Rachel and Santana moved out. The other side of the bed is empty but that isn’t unusual either. Blaine likes to get up early and sometimes he goes out for a run before Kurt wakes up.The loft is cold in the mornings so Kurt reaches for the nearest sweater and pulls it on before he gets out of bed, then stumbles to the kitchen.

“M’making coffee,” he grunts loudly, as he always does. Only sometimes will someone emerge from their curtained partition to join him for breakfast, but he likes to make his intentions known. He’s groggy, he always is when he wakes up, and his muscle memory pours water into the coffee pot and sets the machine to start without his brain ever engaging. He’s good at the early morning coffee routine now - he hardly ever breaks mugs or spills water, which used to infuriate Rachel and led to some unpleasant, undercaffeinated fights.

It isn’t until he starts to fill the second mug that he remembers.

The loft is silent because Blaine’s gone. The other side of the bed was empty because Blaine’s gone. He’s made too much coffee because Blaine’s gone.

Kurt drinks the whole pot of coffee, sitting at the table, staring into the surface and trying to pick out patterns in the grain of the wood. His stomach begins to churn after the third cup but he finishes it all anyway, because Blaine hates it when coffee is wasted. Kurt’s mind keeps flashing with the memory of last night - _do you even want to marry me?_ \- and each time feels like a knife stabbing into the base of his stomach. He focuses on the swirl that looks kind of like a snail - _maybe I don’t!_ \- but it doesn’t keep him from hurting.

He’s vibrating out of his skin once the pot is empty, hands trembling from the shock of remembering and too much caffeine. He should eat but he feels too sick, too lost, so he just walks around the loft. He wanders into the living room, where he and Blaine would often sit side-by-side on Monday nights, laughing and sharing with their friends and dozing together as the evenings drew on and late night TV took over from conversation. He turns away only to look through the shelving unit into his bedroom, the least private space possible and yet it contained so many private moments. Their roommates may have heard them having sex, but Kurt’s certain they couldn’t hear the times when Blaine whispered his insecurities though tears that Kurt kissed away, or the times when Kurt quietly admitted that he was scared of failing.

He laps the loft more times than he can count, wandering slowly, looking around at the ruins. It’s hard to believe that mere months ago the apartment was full of life and love and fights, with more people than it could reasonably hold living in closer quarters than could possibly be humane. It’s empty now, and Kurt’s the last man standing. Everyone has left him and now he’s pushed away the one person who stayed through it all.

As he walks, the place starts feeling smaller and smaller, The walls are closing in on him and he panics, suddenly breathless and terrified. He runs, not caring to slide the door shut behind him, down the stairs and out into the street, desperate for some air, some perspective. It’s cold outside and Kurt isn’t wearing any shoes, but he stands outside the building and watches Bushwick waking up as the wind blows harder and the clouds threaten rain. He’s numb now, from his toes to his fingertips to his heart, and he needs to be. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and walks back inside to figure out his future.


End file.
